As Iain persuaded the fire to intensify, Abigail drew her cloak and the blankets around her shoulders.
She gazed into the fire. “So, what do you want to talk about?”
“We cannae have a relationship with secrets between us.”
She snapped her head up and stared at him. “A relationship?”
Iain balked. Had he misread her emotions? Had she just wanted a physical dalliance? Didnae she want a relationship with him?
He couldn’t say anything. He just stared into the fire, wondering how he could have gotten everything so wrong.
Perching on a rock close to his legs, Abigail pulled down on his kilt. “Sit down.”
Like a man possessed of little brain, he did so, but he didn’t take his eyes off the dancing flames.
Abigail let out a long, loud breath. “I do have a secret, Iain, but I don’t know if you are strong enough to hear it.”
His back stiffened, and he glared at her. How dare she question his strength, his manhood?
“Don’t get weird on me. I meant the secret is something so, um, out of this world, I doubt anyone in Scotland at this time would be able to handle it.” Her eyes widened. “Hang on, you said we both have secrets. You tell me yours first, and I just might tell you mine.”
Still trying to make out what she said in the first instance, Iain raised his eyebrows. “What do ye mean by ‘Scotland at this time’?”
“Don’t change the subject.” She smiled. “What’s your secret?”
Her perfect smile shot straight to his heart, and he knew if she was to leave him, his heart would never feel that way again. He had to tell her the truth and hope she wouldn’t think less of him.
“I am to wed.”
She reared back. “What? You’re engaged and yet you still kissed me, tried to make out with me?”
“Make out what?”
“Never mind, but you did kiss me. More than once, I might add.”
Iain hanged his head unable to meet her angry eyes. She was right, he was a cad. “I am not affianced, but I am expected to wed the daughter of our neighboring clan, the MacKinnons.”
Chapter 18
Abby didn’t want him to regret kissing her, but she knew he was right; there was no way they could be together. She studied his lowered profile, his jaw was set hard and his lips were tight and thin. He couldn’t look unhappier with his situation.
“Don’t you like your girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend? I have many friends, both young and old lasses.”
“The girl you’re supposed to marry.”
“She is beautiful.”
Abby had to stop herself from wincing at that proclamation.
“And she is a highborn Scot.”
Of course, she was.Another strike against Abby.
“Then what’s the problem?”
He looked at her, hurt and disappointment in his eyes. “I dinnae love her.”
